Fun in the Sun
by TheMuseCalliope
Summary: In which there is sexual tension and The Doctor suspects that Rose's clothing is trying to control his mind. The Sequel to Swimming now with fixed part 2
1. Chapter 1: Sun

**Fun in the Sun**

**1. Sun**

The Doctor closed the door of the TARDIS behind them and squinted around in the bright sunlight. After his eyes adjusted to the glare, he turned and contemplated his surroundings; taking in the parking lot, barbecue area, and even the polo grounds across the street. Everything looked…well, normal. Even the beach itself looked just as relaxing as advertised. He of all people knew that appearances could be deceiving, but, on the other hand, he really couldn't find anything remotely threatening. And he wasn't sure if that made him feel relaxed…or disappointed. Rose just smiled at him when he turned to her and headed off for the beach, leaving him to follow behind.

They laid out their towels under a convenient tree, and Rose pulled a bottle of sun cream out of her beach bag. The same bag he'd slipped his sonic screwdriver into a moment before, finding to his shock that his swim shorts had no pockets. He just didn't feel right without his screwdriver close to hand, just in case. One never knew when it might come in handy.

It was really quite pleasant here, to be sure. The water was so calm that it was difficult to believe that this was really the ocean. Not three yards away there was even a baby sitting in the shallows splashing away as though the ocean was just a rather large bathtub. Her mother smiled down at her, one hand supporting the little one's back. The Doctor turned away quickly, ignoring a sudden rush of complex emotions and the little voice in his mind wondering how he was supposed to make it through an entire day of inaction. There was, after all, a reason that he spent his life in constant motion.

He gazed stubbornly into the distance for a while, until he realized that he was actually scanning the horizon for invading spaceships or any sort of rampaging sea monsters heading their direction. Nothing. Not even a shark. Just blue sky, wispy clouds, and slightly wind blown water. _Damn!_

Amused with himself, he glanced back at Rose and stared. She'd untied her sarong and was busily applying sun cream to her abdomen in long, careful strokes. He could see that she'd already taken care of her face and legs, so that only left her back and…the rest of her top half.

Dear. God.

He should look away or close his eyes. Think of something else, anything but watch Rose as she started on her neck without looking up at him. She _could_ look up at any moment and see him drinking in the sight of her hands moving over her pale skin. And really, he was pretty sure that his expression would say too much.

With a titanic effort of will, he managed to tear his gaze away from her body only to find the same scene replaying itself on the back of his eyelids. Rubbing his face and running his fingers agitatedly though his hair, he fought to keep from groaning aloud. This was torture, pure and simple. How was he supposed to survive a whole day of this without doing something stupid?

The Doctor had managed to get halfway to his goal of reciting pi to a thousand digits—and had begun to feel a bit calmer in the process—when Rose touched his arm.

"Doctor? Could you do my back?"

He opened his eyes and turned to see a shade-dappled Rose offering him the bottle of sun cream. His hand reached for the bottle automatically, even as his mind was shouting at him that this was a bad idea.

Distance, he reminded himself desperately—_rules!_

Rose turned her back to him, ducking her head and moving her hair to expose the nape of her neck. A sudden vision of him grabbing her around the waist and biting down just where her neck met her shoulder leapt unbidden into his mind, and he nearly dropped the bottle. What was _wrong_ with him today? He was beginning to get the feeling that her neck was taunting him as he poured some of the sun cream into his hand. So he did the only thing he could think of to distract himself as he proceeded to work the lotion into her skin.

He started babbling.

Well, actually, it was a lecture about the history of the planet they had been headed towards when Rose had decided that she wanted to come here instead, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it sounded like babbling anyway. He worked his way through the fall of the royal family and the rise to power of the current tyrant as his hands glided across her skin, being careful not to miss a spot. Her skin was perfect the way it was, and he certainly didn't want it to burn. Also, it was incredibly soft. Was that a tiny birthmark under her shoulder blade?

Between the thread of his narrative and the random observations flitting through his mind, it took him a moment to realize that he was done. Actually, he was more than done. He'd begun to trace words into her back with his fingers. Three quarters of the way through the word "golden" he stopped abruptly. The whirling patterns of Gallifreyan letters were invisible on her skin, but he felt as though his hands had betrayed him somehow.

"All done," he pronounced, standing up and moving away from Rose…and temptation.

Her voice stopped his flight, but only for a moment. "Do you need me to do your back, too?"

Refusing to even contemplate the feel of her hands on his back, he smiled at her disarmingly. "No thanks. My skin isn't as sensitive to radiation as yours is. I'll be fine. I think I'll just go for a swim."

Raising his head from the water, The Doctor looked for the towel that Rose was napping on for about the hundredth time. Well, she had called it "tanning," but how she could ever hope to get a tan when her towel was in the shade he wasn't sure. But he certainly wasn't checking up on her just to stare at her barely clad body. _Oh those long legs and… stop it!_

He located their towels and things quite easily, but this time Rose was gone. Telling himself sternly not to panic, he scanned the beach for her familiar form. After a moment, he spotted her a little way further along the beach chatting with two tanned muscular blokes dressed much as he was. Both of them seemed to be listening intently to what she was saying.

Wait—what was that growling noise?

Glancing quickly to either side, The Doctor found nothing nearby but more water.

This left only one conclusion….

Rassilon and Omega—the noise was coming from him. _This is bad._

Before he could ponder this development any further, one of Rose's two new admirers reached out to touch her arm. The Doctor narrowed his eyes and instantly began moving toward the trio. No doubt she was enjoying the attention, but if there was one thing that he knew, it was males. They were much the same the Universe over. Really, they were both standing much too close to her for comfort. Well, his comfort anyway. Come to think of it, he didn't like the way they were looking at her either. Like she was a starving man's next meal.

Attempting to keep to his usual relaxed pace, he walked toward them through the shallows. Coming up behind Rose, he oh-so-casually draped his arm across her shoulders and smiled at her new friends.

"Hello, Rose. Who are your friends?"

She glanced up at him, and he thought that he caught a sparkle of amusement in her eyes before she looked away, but he wasn't sure.

"This is my friend, The Doctor," she offered, and hands were duly shaken all around.

Steve and Mike, it turned out, were visiting from California. They were brothers. One worked in Marketing; the other, in Sales. Rose had actually managed to glean a surprising amount of information from them. The Doctor, however, was really more interested in making them go away. He didn't wish to embarrass Rose by being rude, but either they were too blinded by her beauty—really who could fault them for that—or he wasn't getting his point across.

And if Mike didn't get his eyes back up to Rose's face right now, he wasn't going to be responsible for his actions.

Ever so slowly, The Doctor drew himself up to his full height. Though his lips still curved up in a smile, all of the humor behind it drained from his face leaving only The Oncoming Storm looking out. This gaze he directed at Mike, and waited for a reaction.

Rose continued her conversation with Steve, seemingly oblivious to the sudden increase of tension to her right.

The Doctor watched as Mike finally finished his current perusal of Rose's swimwear. Their eyes met. Mike reddened under his tan and actually stepped back a pace, looking alarmed. _Finally._

The Doctor's affable mask was instantly back in place when Rose turned towards them, and looked suspiciously between him and Mike.

To his credit, Mike took this pause in the flow of conversation as an opportunity to take his leave. "You know, it's getting late. We should go see where the rest of our group got to. Nice meeting you both," he said, before dragging a confused Steve away with him.

Only after they left did it occur to The Doctor that his behavior so far today might have seemed a little bit…strange. He just couldn't account for some of the things he had thought and done. He looked down once more at Rose who was watching the brothers' rapid retreat with perplexed expression on her face, and he wondered briefly if her bikini was somehow trying to control his mind.

The idea had merit, actually. Where had it come from in the first place? If she'd found it in the TARDIS, it could have originated anywhere. Some sort of external influence could explain today's strangeness. Perhaps the bright red swimwear had appeared on the TARDIS at the same time as that feathered outfit he'd found earlier. He'd never seen either of them before, so why not? There was bound to be some mind-controlling, alien-made, bright-red swimwear available at those large bazaars that Rose so enjoyed. Come to think of it, Jack had loved those bazaars, too. Maybe Jack…

He could almost hear Jack laughing at him now.

Okay. He was just being silly. The Doctor knew perfectly well that it was the woman inside the swimsuit that was driving him mad. Normally, he was busy enough to ignore this attraction. Well, most of the time, that is. And normally she was wearing more. Not that he was complaining, of course. It was just that he was having a really hard time thinking about something other than the feel of her skin under his hands.

Time Lords are rational beings, he reminded himself. They do not need to give in to baser urges. They are above that sort of thing.

_Riiiiight. You just keep telling yourself that, Doctor._

And when exactly had his inner voice started sounding like Captain Jack Harkness?

Maybe he really _was_ going mad. Either way, he needed to come up with something to distract himself with soon, or even his impressive willpower would finally fail.

And speaking of mad….

Rose had her hands on her hips and her face wore an expression that did not bode well for his future. "What was that all about?"

The Doctor tried for innocent incomprehension. "What was what all about?"

Rose's eyes somehow managed to get even narrower. "What did you do?"

Innocence hadn't worked, so The Doctor tried for a change of subject. "Nothing. Well, it _is_ nearly suppertime, right? They were probably just hungry. Growing boys, you know. What do you think? Shall I try my hand at barbecuing?"

Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head, her stance relaxing. The Doctor could almost hear her thinking _git_ at him.

He grinned at her, heaved a large mental sigh of relief, and took her hand, preparing to lead her back to their towels, but she stopped after only a few steps and looked up at him.

"Wait. You said something about barbecuing. You want to barbecue?"

Instead of the hoped for enthusiasm, Rose's eyes grew worried, and The Doctor was treated to an image of himself standing in front of a huge ball of flame with soot marks decorating his face and his sonic screwdriver. He dropped her hand, and the image disappeared.

Now, that was worrying. Twice, come to think of it. He shouldn't have been able to receive an image from her mind so easily. Holding her hand shouldn't have been enough contact. …And did she really think that he'd blow up the barbecue?

"Well," he began uncertainly, "I thought, you know, we're at the beach, so barbecue. I mean, they even have a barbecue area. Nice word, barbecue. Hmmm…bar-be-cue." He drew the word out as if tasting the syllables, but Rose's worried eyes hadn't left his face. "No barbecue, then?" He asked finally after the silence had gone on a bit too long.

"No," Rose said decisively, and then her face lit with sudden inspiration. "No barbecue. You are going to take me out to eat. Someplace nice. And," she added with a mischievous smile, "you are going to pay this time. With real money. I know you have some. Proper sit down. Just you and me."

"I am?"


	2. Chapter 2: Fun

**2. Fun**

The Doctor was not skilled at waiting. Well, it wasn't so much a lack of skill as it was his intolerance for being bored. To wait was to be bored, and to be bored was not something he could take, even in small doses. _Where was the fun it that? Busy life, keep moving forward._ Yet, here he was, being bored…of waiting…for _her_.

He stood at the console, clad once again in one of his ubiquitous pin-stripe suits and a clean pair of trainers, fidgeting with various controls and dials until the TARDIS, who had obviously had quite enough of that behaviour, shocked him. Giving the console an offended glare, he popped his newly burned finger into his mouth and took up pacing instead. What was taking Rose so long?

His preparations had taken little more than an hour, and that included the dinner reservations, moving the TARDIS to the correct day, and ferreting out enough actual currency to pay for dinner. He _had_ taken the extra time to make his hair presentable and come up with a nice shirt and tie, but he'd still ended up back in the console room first. _Women and their need to be sooo slo–no, deliberate–about dressing!_ So, he'd called to confirm their reservations, double checked the money to make sure that it was from the right time period, and had moved quickly on to fidgeting.

Not quite sure why he was so impatient, The Doctor glanced at his watch and reviewed his plan for the evening. Rose had requested a proper sit down dinner. _Check._ She had insisted on the use of actual currency. He tapped his jacket pocket where said currency resided. _Check._ She had been specific about the dinner occurring "someplace nice." Well, he'd actually been here once before, as it happened. He was pretty sure that she'd like it. Not that he was trying to impress her or anything. Where was he? Oh, yes. _Check._

The TARDIS was around the corner from their destination. He'd made sure that they'd arrived at the right time, and _he_ was ready. Now all he needed was Rose.

The Doctor was in mid-pace when he finally heard her footfalls on the grating behind him. He turned, prepared to say something about how they needed to get going or they'd be late. The words died in his throat. Five billion languages at his disposal and all he could manage was the untranslatable "guh."

_She walks in beauty_, he thought faintly.

From her elegant chignon to her strappy red high-heeled sandals, Rose looked absolutely amazing. Her red silk dress somehow contrived to be dressy yet simple, as well as completely sexy.

She was perfection.

Oh, he was doomed.

"So, how do I look?" she asked as she slowly turned in a circle to give him the full effect of her outfit. The handkerchief hem of her dress flowed seductively around her calves as she turned and the combs in her hair gleamed as she moved. Watching her, The Doctor had a sudden mad impulse to forget about dinner altogether. There were plenty of other things they could do in the TARDIS together. They could…go for a swim in the pool, or watch a film, or…other… stuff. He was also fiercely glad that Steve and Mike wouldn't see her like this. He'd gone forward a month for their reservation, and those gentlemen were long gone.

When Rose had finished one revolution, The Doctor found himself standing directly in front of her with no clear memory of having moved. He was just suddenly there. She looked up at him, surprise evident on her face. He gazed down at her, his eyes lingering on her slightly parted lips. Then he reached out one hand and ran his knuckles gently along her left cheek.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

The Doctor burned with the need to close the space between them. It took all of his willpower not to tilt her head up slightly and ravish her lips as she stood there looking up at him with a slightly dazed expression. His hands closed around her upper arms…

Rose blinked, startled, and The Doctor came to his senses abruptly. Dinner. He was supposed to be taking her to dinner, not seducing her in the control room. For all he knew, she didn't even think of him that way. She was young and impressionable, and he shouldn't take advantage of that. He was supposed to be behaving like a civilized 900 year-old being. And that included escorting her properly to the promised sit down dinner.

"Dinner! Right, then. We should be off. Don't want to be late." He turned away from her, straightened his jacket, and offered her his arm.

Rose stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she took his arm and followed him out of the TARDIS.

After carefully locking the door, he led Rose through the parking lot, secretly amused by the fact he had actually parked the TARDIS in a designated parking area for once. It was a very short walk to the Hanamaulu Café, so they arrived with time to spare. They paused before entering the unassuming building while Rose sounded out the name of the restaurant. Then, for a moment, she seemed to be comparing their attire to the rather plain front of the Café, and he could tell that she was not impressed. Smiling, The Doctor led her through the front door. He had a feeling her opinion was about to change.

The host greeted them warmly, led them down a long hall, and out into the Tea Garden. The Doctor glanced around quickly. The bonsai trees, koi pond, little path, and the large open sided tea room were all exactly as he remembered them. And it was all theirs. He hadn't wanted to share this dinner with anyone but Rose, so he'd reserved the entire room for the two of them. If Rose's face was anything to go by, he'd managed to impress her after all. She simply radiated delight, even when he reminded her that they'd have to take off their shoes before entering the room. His trainers and her heels stood next to each other on the step when they took their places at the short table and carefully eased their legs into the well underneath.

The Doctor was halfway through formulating his order when Rose spoke, her voice deliberately casual.

"So, how did you find this place?"

Glancing over at her, The Doctor found her face hidden behind the menu. Shrugging, he told her the truth. Well, most of it anyway. "I was here once before. It was a long time ago, in my personal timeline that is, but it's just as I remember it."

"How long ago was that?"

Was she going somewhere with this line of questioning? He thought about his answer. It was probably best to keep it short. For some reason, he really didn't feel like reminding her how very large an age gap existed between them. "Oh…about…800 years. Give or take a decade or two. You know, they have excellent sashimi here. We'll have to get some of that. Oh, and tea, of course."

Rose giggled. "Oh, of course."

"Personally, I like Alian sea bass, not that you could get that here, so I suppose that salmon will do. Tasty fish, salmon. Well, when it's not full of those toxic chemicals you humans insist on dumping in the oceans. Mercury has a distinctly unpleasant aftertaste, I've found. Do you have a favorite kind of fish?"

"Yeah, the kind that goes with chips," Rose replied, kicking him lightly on the shin. "I've had sushi before you know, Doctor. London's gotten quite cosmopolitan since Mr. Chicken's time. Salmon's good." She glanced at him over the edge of the menu. "So, were you here alone last time?"

He really didn't want to be talking about this right now. "Nope. Should we order an appetizer? I'm famished."

Rose closed her menu and set it on the table in front of her. Her face didn't give The Doctor any idea what to expect, but he watched her fold her arms with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Maybe you should just order for the both of us, since you know this place so well," she suggested. Before The Doctor could say anything, she added, "Was it Sarah Jane?"

"Was what Sarah Jane?" _Wait. Is she…jealous?_

"Was Sarah Jane the one you were here with before?" Rose asked, sounding a bit exasperated.

_She is! Well, this is…promising_, he mused. Well, it _would_ be promising if there were any possibility of _that_ sort of thing between them. Sadly, it also meant that he had to tell her the truth, and that involved talking about things that he'd rather not…as well as reminding her of his age again. He set down his menu reluctantly. "No, I was here with Susan."

"Susan?" Rose looked puzzled.

The Doctor took a deep breath. The pain was still there. When would it stop hurting so much to talk about his family? "Yes, Susan. She's my…was my granddaughter. She wanted…well, to come here and do the touristy thing. Watch some hula dancing. Eat poi. She was always so curious about other cultures, times, and places. Her favorite time was," he had to stop and clear his throat before he could continue, "1960's London, actually." If he tried, he could still remember how she looked back then with perfect clarity, her eyes so bright and alive. Susan was gone now, just like all the others. Oh, how he missed her. His people, his home, even many of his enemies had all fallen to dust. It was with an effort that he brought himself back to the present. "Anyway, she wanted to eat some raw fish so we came here. She liked it, so I thought you might like it too."

He sighed. Why had he given in and brought up Susan in the first place? True, Rose _had_ asked, but now the whole mood of the conversation had changed. He'd planned everything so that she would have a good time tonight. Sitting here with a moody Time Lord would not be particularly thrilling for her, he imagined. Now what was he supposed to do?

The Doctor's eyes were focused on his menu where it sat on the table and his thoughts were miles away, so he didn't notice Rose reach out her hand to rest it on top of his. When her thumb began to rub back and forth across his skin, he looked up at her surprised.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

Rose's entire demeanor had changed. Her shoulders were slumped; her eyes downcast, even that indefinable sparkle that she carried around with her had dimmed.

This was not okay with The Doctor. It was his considered opinion that his strong, vibrant Rose should _never_ look like that. In fact, now that he thought about it, he'd be hard-pressed not to hurt someone who put that subdued look on her face.

The situation obviously called for some sort of drastic action. But what?

_Well, you could just snog her. That'll get her attention._

Ohhh, that's just great. That's all he needed right now. That voice. It was back. He would expect the illusory voice of Captain Jack to suggest something like that. Never mind that he was obviously going mad. How else could he explain the fact that Jack Harkness seemed to have taken up residence in his brain. There was no way that he would ever…

Wait. That might actually work. Well, if Plan A didn't work, that is.

Simply smiling at Rose and willing her to look up at him had no effect. He tried beaming. He tried grinning. No luck. So, with a bit of a mental sigh he moved on to Plan B. He could have stalled longer and actually just tried talking her out of her funk, but…well, he was hungry, so he was going for maximum effect in the minimum of time.

The Doctor took hold of the hand that Rose had placed on top of his, raised it to his lips, and placed the lightest of kisses on her knuckles.

Rose's astonished gaze flew back up to his then dropped to where he still held her hand in his.

The Doctor grinned at her, and then released her hand to pick up his menu once more. "Ummm…do you still want me to order for both of us?"

Rose smiled wryly. "Oh, why not."

The rest of dinner went along much more smoothly. Their food arrived quickly. The tea was marvelous. They even chatted about where they might go next. The only surprising thing, in The Doctor's mind at least, was the time that he looked up from his food to find Rose looking at him speculatively from across the table.

"What?"

Rose grinned. "Open your mouth," she instructed.

"Why?" The Doctor was somewhat puzzled by her request. _What is she up to?_

"Just open your mouth," she insisted.

Cautiously he complied, and Rose reached across the table to carefully drop a piece of salmon from between her chopsticks into his mouth.

"Good?" she asked.

The Doctor chewed and swallowed before agreeing that is was incredibly good fish.

Encouraged, Rose offered him a tiny bit of octopus.

In return, The Doctor offered her a bit of tuna. The sight of her lips closing around his chopsticks as she accepted his offering sent a little thrill through him. She shut her eyes, savoring the bit of fish with obvious enjoyment, and for a moment he pondered what _she_ might taste like. He told himself sternly to behave. _Down boy!_ But that didn't stop him from offering her several more choice morsels from his plate in succession.

By the time that they'd finished their green tea ice cream, Rose and The Doctor agreed that they were quite full, and, in Rose's case, a little bit sleepy. The Doctor paid their bill with a little flourish to show her that he had fulfilled that part of her request as well. Secretly, he was relieved that he had estimated the cost correctly. Once everything was settled, they made their farewells to the wait staff and went to retrieve their shoes from the step just outside of the room.

The Doctor had his trainers on in a flash, while Rose, who was trying to be careful of her stockings, was still fastening her heels. He was watching the koi in the pond when she finally stood and promptly caught a heel on the edge of the step. Even being well aware that he had fast reflexes, he was still a bit surprised that he managed to catch her as she fell. They stared at each other in shock for a moment, and it slowly dawned on The Doctor that he was actually holding Rose in his arms…and he really didn't want to let her go. It wasn't as if she was any great burden, and it was quite possible that she'd hurt her ankle just then. He would just have to carry her back to the TARDIS and check out her ankle in the infirmary. It had nothing to do with the feel of her arm around his neck, or the way she felt cradled against him. Nor did it have anything to do with her perfume or how close her lips were to his.

_Oh, Hell._


	3. Chapter 3: Golden

3. Golden

_Oh, Hell. _

The Doctor looked down at the woman he held in his arms. Who was he trying to fool anyway? This had everything to do with Rose. Her scent, the feel of her in his arms, the perfect line of her throat, her lips…those sweet lips that demanded to be--

"Doctor?"

Rose was looking at him, her eyes wide, no doubt wondering why he seemed frozen in place. Well, either that or she was beginning to wonder if he was some sort of dangerous madman. The way he was feeling right then made him wonder if "dangerous madman" might not be too far off of the mark. The feel of Rose's curves pressed against his body was driving him to consider all sorts of dangerous courses of action. She was probably expecting him to set her down and maybe tease her a little about her supposed clumsiness. But he could hear the pulse of the blood in her veins and the quickening of her breath. Her luscious lips were parted slightly as if in invitation. The Doctor knew that the invitation had to be all in his head, but he found to his surprise that for once he didn't care.

Lowering his head a few inches, he kissed her. It was just the briefest touch of his lips on hers, but to The Doctor, it was as though all of his senses came awake at once. He could taste the hint of soy sauce on her lips, smell the faint scent of apples from her shampoo, and feel the Earth spinning as it hurtled through space with them clinging to its surface.

He wanted more. A brief kiss just wasn't enough. Maybe her scent was driving him mad. Maybe her dress really was from Alia Major, and therefore, designed to torment him. It didn't matter. For one insane moment he contemplated just taking what he wanted, consequences be damned. He'd saved the Universe several times, after all. Why couldn't he have something _he_ wanted for a change? Surely the Universe owed him one by now. And Rassilon help him, he wanted Rose. Just one small niggling worry stopped him from throwing all caution to the four winds.

What if _she_ didn't want _him_?

_Yeah. That's why she's screaming and pushing you away._

The Doctor resolutely ignored Jack's voice and rested his forehead against Rose's for a moment, before sighing and raising his head once more. He'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he'd forgotten how Rose had ended up in his arms in the first place.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I…er…are you alright? How's your ankle?"

Rose looked up at him dazedly, her eyes unfocused. The Doctor had just begun to worry that she had managed to hit her head somehow when she finally blinked and glanced down at her leg. Obediently, she wiggled her foot a bit and winced. "Ow! It hurts," she admitted. "I'm not sure that I can walk on it. How far is it back to the TARDIS?"

He was the lowest creature imaginable. Well, apart from say Davros or maybe…pond scum. Here he was being selfish when Rose's ankle was obviously swollen and needed medical attention. Without another word, The Doctor turned and carried Rose along the little stone path that led from the back of the restaurant to the parking area. Good thing the TARDIS was close by.

The Doctor made his way down the hall towards the Infirmary, all the while trying to ignore the little messages that his body was sending him. Rose's ankle needed tending, so he wasn't interested in knowing, for example, that her dress was incredibly soft and silky. He certainly wasn't wondering if her skin felt the same way. His thoughts were full of important medical instruments that he could use to fix Rose's ankle, not the feel of her arm against the back of his neck.

It was with some relief that he finally spotted his destination.

Backing carefully through the door to the Infirmary, The Doctor turned, prepared to set Rose down on the usual table, and stopped. They had entered what could only be described as a 'love nest.' No medical equipment in sight, just the hugest canopied 4-poster bed he had ever seen. All of the wood he could see on the bed was covered with delicate looping designs. It even had curtains. Not flimsy curtains either. They were more like woven hangings with a repeated flower pattern of some sort. Also, there seemed to be candles everywhere. The Doctor backed out of the room slowly, Rose still held in his arms.

In the hall once more, he stared at the Infirmary door. It was the correct door. What was going on? Perhaps the TARDIS got confused?

He tried the next door along the hall and entered…the same room. Only this time he noticed the soft music playing in the background and a tea cart parked in the corner. It was laden with all sorts of delicacies. _Well, this is…strange._

Rose's eyes were huge, he noted. She seemed to take in every detail of the room and become ever more intrigued.

That was all well and good, but this wasn't doing anything to help Rose's ankle. Very reluctantly, The Doctor set Rose gently down on the bed next to a couple of Kimonos and somehow managed to avoid all of the rose petals that were strewn about. Looking up at the ceiling, his hands on his hips, he gave voice to his displeasure. "How, may I ask, am I supposed to fix Rose's ankle, which is both painful and swollen, if you insist on hiding the Infirmary?"

The TARDIS sent him a feeling of slight apology accompanied by the image of a drawer in the back wall of the room and that was all. _What is she playing at? _he wondered.

Muttering under his breath, The Doctor went directly to the indicated drawer. Opening it, he found exactly what he needed and a few other things that couldn't possibly have anything to do with medical treatment. Where the TARDIS had managed locate that many different silk scarves and what they were doing in the drawer with the other items he just wasn't prepared to contemplate. He was tempted to have a look in the other drawers, but thought better of it. There were other, more pressing things to do right now.

He made his way back to Rose across the overly plush carpet and knelt in front of her to carefully remove her sandal. "It seems The TARDIS decided that we don't need the Infirmary. And while I admire the décor, I can't say that I agree with her."

Rose laughed. "Maybe she felt that it was time for a change?" she offered.

"Oh, yes," he agreed. "Only the latest Infirmaries have plush carpeting, are lit by candles, have huge exam beds, and hide all of the medical equipment. What could I have been thinking, designing something with small beds and a sterile atmosphere?"

"TARDIS knows best," she replied, giggling.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and got to work scanning her swollen ankle. He was glad to discover that it was only a bad sprain. Nothing was broken. He could fix this easily, but she would have to remove the stocking covering it, as the instrument he needed required contact with the skin. He should probably ask the TARDIS for a little more light while he was at it. Even with his superior night-sight, reading the scanner's display was proving difficult. When he looked up at Rose, intending to tell her that she needed to take off her stockings, he found her watching him. Her hair was golden in the candlelight. He wondered idly what it would look like cascading down about her shoulders.

He didn't _really_ need that much light to work, come to think of it. Maybe they could stop by the kitchen for a cup of tea once her ankle was repaired. He could double check his work then. Wait. What was he doing? Oh, yeah. Stockings. Right.

"Rose? I need you to take your stockings off before I can fix your ankle. The instrument needs contact with your skin."

Rose raised her eyebrow and didn't quite manage to suppress a smile. "Were you going to help me with that, or are you planning on turning your back?"

The Doctor could feel his cheeks burning, and was suddenly glad for the lack of light in the room. There was no way that Rose had just said that. Was he hearing things again?

He stood and backed away from her, managing somehow not to trip over his own feet. "No. You…you go ahead," he stuttered. "I'll be over here if you need me… er…admiring the new wallpaper. Just let me know when you're done."

The Doctor walked towards the wall, careful to keep his back turned towards Rose. Faint rustling sounds reached his ears and he couldn't help picturing what was going on behind him. He could see Rose frowning in concentration as she carefully rolled her stockings down her shapely legs. Her dress was pooled around her at a point half-way up her thighs, as she had needed to pull it up to reach the tops of her thigh highs. Fair skin glowing against the dark red of the dress, she'd turn and smile at him… He was completely entranced by his imaginings.

Perhaps that was why he managed not to notice the door slowly melting away into the wall.

It took a long moment for his better judgment to re-assert itself, and tell him that he shouldn't be fantasizing about Rose that way. Yes, she was a beautiful young woman -no doubting that- but that didn't mean that he should be thinking about her as some sort of…sex object. She was his companion, and he should treat her with respect.

_And where's the fun in that?_

For once, The Doctor agreed, but he opened his eyes anyway. He glanced at the wall in front of him and he could swear that something was different. What could it be? It was like one of those puzzles that they had in newspapers, the ones that showed two pictures and asked you to spot tiny differences between them. He was really good at those, so this should be a piece of cake.

_Hmmm… Wait a minute. Where's the door? It was here just a minute ago, wasn't it?_

Why would the TARDIS take the door away? The Doctor couldn't see any reason for his ship to trap him in a room with Rose. Unless… Several unexplained events from the day suddenly pieced themselves together in his mind. The perfect landing on the perfect beach for relaxing. The selection of swimwear that had been waiting for him in the wardrobe room. Rose's red bikini. The image that he'd managed to see in Rose's mind. The dress that Rose was currently wearing. The missing Infirmary.

It was…it was…well, it wasn't subtle, was it? The TARDIS was behind it all! Since when was she so…pushy? And poor Rose was trapped in a room with a Time Lord who had spent the entire day thinking about her in a more-than-just-friendly way.

A room with a huge bed and romantic atmosphere.

A room with a drawer full of silk scarves.

The Doctor groaned inwardly. What was he going to do? Somehow the TARDIS had figured out how he really felt about Rose and had decided to do something about it.

_Yeah. She knows how you feel about Rose, but do you?_

_Well, of course I know how I feel about Rose,_ he replied angrily, running his hands through his hair. _I know exactly how I feel about her. That doesn't mean that I'm going to start chasing her around like some sex-crazed teenager._

_No. _Captain Jack's voice held a sharp edge now. _You're just going to hang around giving her mixed signals and scaring away any competition with your death glare. How exactly is that better?_

_You don't understand. _Great. Now he was arguing with himself. This could not end well. _Look. I promised to keep her safe. And that includes safe from me, alright?_

_What if she's alright with living life a bit more…dangerously?_

_I am not having this conversation. I am much too old for Rose. I'm not human. I will outlive her by centuries. There is no way that she feels the same way about me. How many reasons do you need?_

_How do you know what she feels? Have you ever asked her?_

The Doctor had had enough of this. He wasn't even safe in his own head anymore. _I am officially ignoring you now_, he announced and proceeded to work his way through all of the most annoying songs he knew to drown out his pushy inner voice.

Okay, obviously he had to fix Rose's ankle. Once that was taken care of, he could try to persuade the TARDIS to put the door back. Shouldn't be too difficult to convince her…given a couple days.

Riiiight. This was obviously not his day.

First, though, he had to tell Rose about their little problem.

"Rose?" he called resignedly.

"Yes?"

"Um…don't panic, but…" he put his hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet in an attempt to appear casual, "the door has…disappeared."

"The door has what?" Rose's voice climbed a bit at the end of her question, and The Doctor winced.

"Well, it's sort of…melted into the wall. I'm sure that it's nothing to worry about. Probably some sort of minor malfunction. Let me finish with your ankle, and then I'll see if I can get the TARDIS to tell me what's going on. Are you done with your stockings yet?"

From behind him came a rustle, a thump, and a muffled gasp. He spun around to see Rose, her face creased in pain, determinedly limping towards him. That was no good, she'd injure herself further!

"Rose," he pleaded moving quickly to her side, "you'll make it worse."

"But I…"

"You can give the TARDIS a good talking to later, but right now…" He swept her up into his arms and for a second he thought that the world might have imploded. Only that would explain the sudden influx of disorientating sensations he was experiencing. The strongest impression seemed to be a strong cocktail of contentment/worry/love/sadness. That was just weird, because…

Wait.

Everything inside The Doctor stopped. His logical thought process froze. The annoying song he'd chosen ended. His breath stilled. Both hearts paused.

He was touching Rose Tyler's skin with both hands. Rose's left arm rested against the back of his left hand. His right hand held one of her knees. If just holding one of her hands on the beach could transmit a strong image from her mind into his that might mean that he was hearing her _now_. This cacophony of sensations and emotions could be hers. If that was true, then…

Looking down at Rose, The Doctor tried to really pay attention to what he saw there, and not take anything for granted. He saw a beautiful young woman relaxing in his arms, not struggling to be let go. Her eyes were warm cinnamon in the flickering light, and the things he saw reflected there nearly broke him. It was true.

Rose loved him. He wondered how long it had been there for him to see if he had just bothered to look properly. Standing there, immobilized with shock, he let her feelings wash over him.

She loved him and she expected that at any moment he would set her down again, so she was enjoying the contact while she had it. Even this slightly too romantic setting wouldn't make any difference, she knew, and it hurt her to think that he might never feel anything of the sort for her. A little ashamed to know that she'd take what she could get, that didn't stop her from enjoying the feel of his arms around her.

_Rassilon's bones._

He carried her back to the bed and set her down gently. She smiled up at him a little sadly, and the last vestiges of his resistance disappeared. Rose loved him. _Him_. The Destroyer of Worlds. The Oncoming Storm. She knew what he was, and still she loved him. That was incredible. He didn't deserve it, but he was too selfish to care. He wanted to laugh and dance her about the room. Instead, he reached out one trembling hand, removed her hair comb, and ran his fingers through her freed tresses until they fell about her shoulders in waves.

"Doctor? What…" Rose's eyes were huge and full of puzzlement.

He couldn't _hear_ her anymore, but he knew that by now she must be very confused. Not that he could blame her. How exactly was he supposed to explain this?

"Rose, I…" he began, trying to decide how to put what he felt into words.

_Oh, kiss her, already!_

Yes. Perhaps actions _were_ better right now. His fingers wove themselves into her hair as he kissed her desperately. This was no brief meeting of lips. The Doctor kissed Rose with all of the passion of a sinner reaching for salvation. And it wasn't enough. He wanted all of her.

When he finally broke the kiss his hearts were racing. He looked at Rose a little worriedly, but her eyes held none of the shock or anger that he feared to see there. She blinked at him, then a slow seductive smile spread across her face. "Hello."

He smiled back at her, "Hello. Sorry, I should've asked, but…" he trailed off and shrugged expressively.

"Does that mean that you're planning on doing it again?" Her face had gone back to a slightly guarded expression, and he rushed to reassure her.

"Well, yes. Umm…unless you don't want me too, that is. But, I thought maybe that you enjoyed it?" He watched her anxiously for a reaction. If after all of this he'd misread her…

He needn't have worried. Rose reached out her hand and began unknotting his tie. "Was there anything else you had in mind?" she inquired as she moved on to the top button of his shirt.

He stilled her hand and looked down at her, his expression serious. "Rose, if you don't want this you had better tell me now, but… You are the most desirable woman that I have ever encountered. It's been hell trying to keep my hands to myself this past couple of years. But I…but I want… Rose, may I make love to you?"

When she didn't reply right away, he continued, his nerves getting the better of him. "I realize that this is sudden, and you may need time to think it over. It _is_ a big step and I'll understand if you're not ready. Anyway, I should fix your ankle first."

"Doctor."

The Doctor looked back at Rose, slightly startled but the note of command in her voice.

"You talk too much." Leaning forward, she captured his lips in a kiss.

The Doctor thought, on the whole, that she had a point there.

Maybe it _was_ his day after all.

---

The TARDIS purred contentedly to herself. _Finally._

Somewhere in Cardiff, Captain Jack Harkness laughed. _Tell me about it,_ he added, then turned his attention back to his computer screen. It was about time he got some work done.


End file.
